Not a Second Chance

Toronto, Book 2

Laura Jardine

Published 2015

ISBN: 978-1-62210-199-3

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2015, Laura Jardine. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

When Allison runs into her ex-boyfriend at Temptations Bakery, all she wants is a brief catch-up. Nothing more. The man royally pisses her off, and she can barely stand five minutes with him. Though Sidney has gotten more attractive in the past ten years, and she’s having a bit of a dry spell…

Sidney has no plans to win Allison back. Not the woman who just saw him as a fun distraction and dumped him right before she moved across the country for grad school. But he wouldn’t be opposed to an hour in bed.

Unfortunately, they don’t even make it to bed before Allison’s friends interrupt. When Kristy bets they wouldn’t be able to spend a weekend together without stabbing each other, Allison and Sidney accept the bet—they don’t like being told they can’t do something.

Now it’s more than five minutes of catching up—it’s forty-eight hours of torture. And sex. Can they do it? And will this lead to the second chance neither of them wants?

The incredible smell wafting out of Temptations made Allison Wong come to a halt. She sighed. It was totally unfair that she had to walk past one of the best bakeries in the city on her way home from work. Unfair because she could not afford the extra calories from croissants and raspberry tarts and twelve—twelve!!—different types of cake. Every day she had to exercise all the self-control she possessed to just walk on by.

Well, almost every day.

A couple times a month—okay, more like once a week—she gave in. And then she spent a good five minutes deciding what to get because, unfortunately, she could not get everything.

If only she was one of those skinny women who could eat whatever they wanted. Like her mother and sister. Why the hell hadn’t she inherited those genes? Totally unfair.

She couldn’t help listing off all the reasons she deserved a nice big slice of cake today. For starters, she’d eaten healthy all week. And there was that surprise visit from her parents she’d had to deal with on Wednesday, plus that horrible date last night with the man she’d met on nomorebaddates.com. She should have known the URL for that dating website was sarcastic. Plus her day at work hadn’t been the greatest, though admittedly it hadn’t been all that bad—she’d had many worse days. Especially at her old job, where she’d regularly worked seventy-hour weeks. But she’d chipped a nail and—

Okay. Now she was really pushing it. Chipping a nail as an excuse to get a slice of cake? She wasn’t usually that pathetic.

She sighed again. Screw it. It was Friday—she deserved a treat, didn’t she? She’d just do an extra-long workout tomorrow.

She walked into the bakery and was overwhelmed by the delicious smell. If only she could live here. Or work here, instead of at a chem lab, which did not smell anywhere near this good. It would be a waste of all her degrees, and she’d probably gain a ton of weight, but otherwise…

“Hi, Allison,” said Eliza, the young brunette behind the counter. “What’ll it be today? Chocolate raspberry cake? Maybe triple chocolate?”

“Just give me a minute.” Or five. Allison smiled and surveyed the options. There were two new cakes: white chocolate passion fruit and quadruple chocolate.
Quadruple
chocolate? How would that taste any different from triple chocolate? She peered through the glass. They looked exactly the same to her.

“I recommend the white chocolate passion fruit,” Eliza said.

“Okay. I’ll have that. And a small coffee.” Allison didn’t usually drink coffee at five o’clock, but she was going out for dinner and drinks with her friends later and expected it to be a late night.

Yes, given her plans for the evening, she really shouldn’t be at Temptations. Oh well. She’d order a salad and a single glass of wine tonight.

Ha.
Like that would happen.

She took a seat at the counter by the window, and a couple of minutes later, Eliza brought over her order. Allison had a tiny bite of cake and closed her eyes in bliss. God, that was so good. No wonder her self-control was crap when it came to this place.

And what was the fun in depriving herself of the things she liked? She would never be thin anyway. A few years ago, she’d eaten nothing but vegetables and chicken breast for five months, and she’d only lost seven pounds. Better to enjoy herself. In moderation, of course.

“Mind if I sit here?” The man had already sat down and shifted his chair close to her, so clearly he thought she wouldn’t mind. He smiled, and there was something about his smile that was just a little creepy. Plus he was a good two decades older than she was.

She turned away and said nothing.

“Oh, come on. I don’t bite.”

Allison wasn’t convinced. He probably did. She stared at her plate, hoping he would get the hint and leave her alone.

“How about I buy you dinner after we’re done here?”

Somebody sure couldn’t read body language. Or maybe he could and had decided to ignore it.

“No,” she said.

“Why not?”

When a woman shot you down, you did not say “Why not?” Allison glanced toward Eliza, but she was busy serving a young couple.

“I like difficult women.” He leaned in close.

It was probably best not to resort to kicking him in the balls quite yet. Maybe she could say she was waiting for her sumo wrestler boyfriend or just tell him to get the fuck away from her.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said. “He’s meeting me here any minute.”

“I don’t believe you.”

My God. What an asshole.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Allison felt a strong arm curl around her waist. A light kiss on her cheek. From the boyfriend she did not have.

It sure was effective at getting rid of Creepy Guy, who made a beeline for the door, but maybe she’d have to deal with Creepy Guy #2 now. Great. Just what she needed. All she wanted was to eat her damn slice of cake in peace.

She slowly turned toward him, not quite sure what to say. And she was momentarily distracted by the sheer hotness of this guy. He had long blond hair, tied back in a low ponytail—she’d always liked long hair on men. Warm brown eyes. Solid body, big arms. Unlike the other guy, he was about her age, and there was nothing creepy about his smile.

But there
was
something disturbing about the next words out of his mouth.

“Hi, Allison.”

Because he knew her name, and she didn’t know this guy at all.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He dropped his arm from her waist. “You don’t recognize me? Really?”

She shook her head. “Should I?”

“Considering we dated for quite a while, I think you should.”

There were only a handful of men she’d dated for any length of time that could be called “quite a while.” She went through them quickly in her head. Glenn—no, he was at least six inches shorter than this guy. Arthur—no, he was Asian. Jonathan—no, he had a distinctive scar on his cheek from a freak downhill skiing accident, and another above his eyebrow from a vicious pet hamster. Sidney—

“Sidney Hughes?” she said. “Is that you?”

“I guess you haven’t forgotten me after all.” He slid into the seat next to her. “Can I join you?”

“You appear to have already decided I’ll say yes.”
Just like the last guy.

He shrugged and quirked his lips.

Holy shit, when had Sidney gotten so damn
hot
? He’d filled out a bit in the last decade, and the angles of his face were more striking now. Plus the long hair…But asking her a question when he’d already decided what the answer would be—that was nothing new. One of the many reasons she’d moved across the country without consulting him in the decision.

He was right though: she did want him to stay. She was curious about what had happened to him. A little catch-up, that was all. Any more than five minutes of talking and they’d probably end up strangling each other.

Though he
was
quite nice to look at. Allison felt an unwanted curl of heat through her body.

“Finished your PhD?” he asked. “Back in Toronto for good?”

She nodded.

“Chemistry, right?”

She nodded again. “So what have you been up to for the past ten years?”

“Not grad school, that’s for sure.”

Yeah, she couldn’t imagine Sidney going to grad school. And even if he wanted to…Well, it was a miracle he’d passed enough courses to get his bachelor’s degree—and that had taken him five years. His grades were terrible.

“So what do you think?” he said. “I’m living in my parents’ basement, spending my days playing online poker and losing all my money?”

She jerked her head. “Of course I don’t think that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

“But you have to admit, if I had doubts about you being able to accomplish things, they were quite reasonable doubts. Entirely based on how much work I saw you
not
doing. On how many exams I saw you fail.”

“School and I were not a good fit. That’s all.” Sidney put his elbow on the counter and rested his cheek against his hand. “If you don’t picture me living with my parents and playing poker all day, what
do
you picture me doing?”

She sighed. “I don’t want to play this guessing game. Just answer the goddamn question.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Did I not used to swear?” she asked.

“Oh, you used to swear. But only when we were in bed and you—”

“Sidney.” She clenched her jaw. “Enough. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I think you do.”

Fuck.
Yes, in the safety of her brain, she swore quite a bit. Now she was picturing the two of them in bed. And although he’d had serious problems getting things done in most aspects of his life, he had no problems getting her off over and over again. Not that he was some amazing sex god who’d totally rocked her world the first time they had sex—though it had been pretty good. But he was the most attentive lover she’d ever had, the guy who’d taken all the time in the world to figure out exactly what she liked.

And now he was sitting beside her. And he was even more attractive than he’d been back then.

“I know what you’re thinking about.” He smirked.

“Thanks for reminding me why we broke up,” she muttered. “You piss the shit out of me.”

He just laughed.

She had a gulp of coffee. “So what are you doing in this bakery?”

“I saw you in the window and decided to say hello. When I came in, you were trying to get rid of some creep, so I thought I’d help.”

“I didn’t need help. I could have handled him myself.”

“I’m sure you could have. But I bet it was faster this way.”

Probably. But she wouldn’t admit that.

“I presume you’re not actually meeting your boyfriend.” He paused. “Do you have one?”

“No.” She had a bite of cake, then pointed at it with her fork. “Here. Get yourself a fork and help me out. I can’t afford all these calories.”

His eyes traveled slowly down her body. It was unnerving, the way he seemed to study every inch of her—her shoulders, her hips, her thighs. He probably wanted something more than a little catching up, and her body flamed at the thought.

“You look pretty good to me,” he said.

She swallowed and looked away. She would not let herself be charmed by him. “If you think you’re going to get lucky—”

“I am?” He leaned toward her slightly.

She gave him a shove. “Just get a damn fork.”

Allison watched him walk to the counter. As in she checked out his ass while pretending not to. It was terribly unfair that he’d gotten more attractive with age. Unlike her. Although he’d said—

No. She would not think like that.

He came back a moment later with a fork and proceeded to take a big bite of cake. She silently fumed at him, even though she wanted someone to take calories away from her.

“I wasn’t saying that to get you into bed,” he said. “Well, not
only
for that reason. You do look good. Like Christina Hendricks.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you need to have your eyes checked. You must be damn near blind.”

He burst out laughing.

“I’m Asian and she’s white. We look nothing alike.”

“Below the shoulders you do.” He put down his fork and placed a hand on her hip.

She wanted to hit his hand away, but she couldn’t manage to do it. It had been an awfully long time since a man had touched her like this. Yes, that must be the reason. Her body craved physical contact, and it didn’t seem to care that the man offering it was her loser ex-boyfriend.